


Questions Later

by Pandorascube



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandorascube/pseuds/Pandorascube
Summary: Hermione's life of isolation changes with a mysterious stranger's appearance.Alpha thanks to Art3misiA!





	Questions Later

Hermione woke with a start, feeling her wards ripple and pulse as an intruder brushed against them. She grabbed her wand from under her pillow and threw the nearby robe over her nightgown.  _ They’re here for me…  _ She let out a steadying breath and headed to the small kitchen, lighting the lantern on her table with a quick  _ Lumos _ . No, if they were here, she knew the assault would be on her by now.  _ S _ he slung her wand holster over her hips and grabbed her rifle from the shelf near the pantry, cocking and loading it swiftly. She tensed as the intruder pushed more insistently against the wards and felt a soft tingle as they attempted to break through with magic. There was finesse there, a lock pick, not a battering ram. She might have missed it, but she was never one to sacrifice sensitivity for strength in her warding. She moved softly through the front door, looking to the eastern pasture for the intrusion. Slowly and silently, like the Hopi taught her when she first fled out west, she crept past the barn and around the corral. As she approached the disturbance in her wards, she heard a gasp of frustration and muttered cursing. She raised the rifle toward the sound and fired without hesitation.

#####  ~~~~~~~

Hermione looked up at the sound of hoofbeats approaching the barn. She closed the door behind her and gave the approaching sheriff a hard look.

“MacMillian.” She nodded a greeting and crossed her arms. He was accompanied by a shifty character that she didn’t recognize. The stranger’s hair was long and barely kempt, and his clothes definitely more distinguished than he was. 

“Ms. Granger,” the short, bumbling lawman dismounted without ease and gave an awkward bow. Clearly the accompanying party had him flustered. “How are you on this fine morning?”

“Hot and busy.” She continued her withering glare. “Is there a reason you brought a stranger onto my land?”

“Ah… Well,” Sheriff Ernie MacMillian fumbled with his words. “This is Septimus Smith. He is in search of his long lost cousin.”  _ Fake name, bad lie. _ The stranger attempted a disarming smile that didn’t come close to his eyes. 

“Well, it’s just me and the animals. I’m sorry that you wasted your time.” Hermione began to move toward the house, dismissing the pair.

“ _ Legilimens, _ ” A soft whisper from the stranger warned her of his intent and she strengthened her shields instinctively. She felt his presence rush against her well-cultivated mental forest of trees and smoke as she brazenly turned to meet his eyes in challenge. She gave him a moment to wander hopelessly and then pulled a pistol from the holster in her skirts.

“First, you trespass on my lands, and now you try to invade my mind? If the sheriff weren’t here you’d be dead already.” She smiled as he recoiled with a sneer at the hardness in her face. 

“Ms. Granger…” MacMillian began.

“Get the fuck off my ranch, Ernie.” Hermione didn’t spare him a look.

“I’m the sheriff-”

“You’d be better off forgetting this place existed if this is the route you’re going.” She cocked her pistol loudly, still fixed on the stranger. “You know how I feel about visitors.”

“A woman out here alone would benefit from the watchful eye of the law,” MacMillian was starting to turn red.

“I haven’t had trouble I can’t handle in the three years I’ve been here. I won’t start needing you now, especially if you keep the company of someone who tries to rape minds.” Hermione spat on the ground in disdain.

“This has all been a misunderstanding.” The stranger spoke for the first time. “If you see my cousin, please send the sheriff an owl.” He turned his horse and began riding away, leaving the sheriff to mount and hurry after.

#####  ~~~~~~~

“What in the four hells did you get me into?” Hermione muttered as she reentered the barn, glaring at the man in front of her. He was laid out on a cot, still bloody but at least no longer moaning about being near death. “A stranger just tried to break into my mind! I should have told them you were here.”

“A Legilimens?” He swept a hand through sweat-soaked blond hair.  _ Sounds like Scabior. Father must be pissed. _ “Where are my guns and my wand?” 

“Yeah, like I’d leave those with you after what you did.” She scoffed crossing her arms toward him.

“What I did? You  _ shot _ me! I barely did anything,” He glowered at her, gray eyes flashing.

“We went over the shooting thing when I treated your wound. You were on  _ my _ land, trying to dismantle  _ my _ wards. You’re lucky I was feeling benevolent.”

“Benevolent! You nearly took my arm off!” He seethed, trying to rise and huffing as his left arm gave out under him. “And you did a shit job with the healing.”

“You should have done it yourself then,” Hermione shot him a facetious smile and turned to leave.

“Wait!” He called after her. “Before... You said you were going to get food and water…” His eyes showed an uncomfortable vulnerability.

“Well, it would be a waste of blood replenishment and pain potions if I let you starve.” The barn door slammed behind her.

Upon entering her small house, Hermione braced herself against the countertop, looking back toward the barn. She’d have to move him when it was time for the horses to come in.  _ What am I doing? _ She growled to herself, going over her prize-winning decision making from the last twelve hours, beginning with letting the trespasser live. She’d had three years without trouble, and suddenly she's nursing vagabonds back to health.  _ Of course, he has shady friends searching for him… _ Why had his reticence to blast down her warding so influenced her survival instincts? She was ready for a full-on assault, not a tentative desperate search for entrance. It intrigued her enough to shoot for the shoulder and not the heart. The world out here was all hard, brazen attacks, so what was this man playing at?  _ He’ll soon be recovered enough for me to kick him out, _ she assured herself. She grabbed some cheese from the icebox and  _ accio _ ed an apple from the counter. An  _ aguamenti _ filled her spare canteen and she was headed back outside toward her charge, debating on letting him stew for a bit. 

#####  ~~~~~~~

Solitude seemed to be the price of peace for Hermione. She affectionately called her small ranch  _ Waki _ , the Hopi word for shelter, but other than her animals, isolation ruled her life. She missed her time living in a tight knit pueblo mesa with one of the Hopi tribes. Those Hopi had given her a new life after she fled Boston.

_ She woke, groaning in a hazy room with an old woman who introduced herself as Ananke. The wizened woman was chanting and waving a  _ paphos _ prayer stick over her. _

_ “The boy who found you claims you came from the underground  _ sipapu _ like our ancestors. Your broken wand is problematic to explain as a  _ powaqa _ would not be welcome among us. Are you a witch or just a silly lost girl?” The breach of silence startled Hermione out of self-piteous revery. _

_ “I had to go. They are going to come-” She trailed off, struggling with her raspy and panicked voice. The silence settled as Ananke still awaited an answer. “Perhaps I am both.”  _

_ “They argue that you do not belong here, but your spirit took a long time to return to your body. Perhaps you do not belong anywhere else either.” The old woman fixed Hermione with a searching look. _

_ “I don’t know what to do,” Hermione cast her eyes downward. _

_ “I will deal with the tribe. Rest.” And that had been that for a while. The cliffside village was an oasis compared to the tumult she left behind after Ilvermorny. Hermione regained her strength and learned every bit of knowledge the Hopi offered about survival. Ananke never let a day go by for free, and Hermione offered all her knowledge, magical and otherwise, in return. Weeks turned into months, and a year into her stay with the Hopi, Ananke summoned her to the  _ kiva _ where they had first met.  _

_ “You are close to being whole again,” _

_ “I know, I’m so grateful for-” Ananke cut her off with a wave. _

_ “You owe us nothing. The winds of the universe work with purpose and without debt. Perhaps this is what you are missing, Powaqa. Your wand was broken, but I transferred the core into this paphos. If it works as before, the  _ kachinas _ have joined your past self to your current body.” Hermione cradled the prayer stick in her hands. It was two inches longer than her original wand, circled with red and gold fibers and had a single feather at the handle.  _

_ “ _ _ Ananke _ _ , I can’t-” _

_ “A powaqa is meant to use their gifts. Tawa commands us to treat all things with respect and reverence when he gave us to the nine worlds. Despite the perversion of this fourth world, peace will get us to the fifth. Perhaps the kachinas have given you another chance at peace.” Hermione smiled as she felt the paphos awaken in her hand. The familiar and comforting feel of her magic had returned. _

_ “ _ Kokyangwuti _ !” Ananke turned toward the door as a young, panicked voice called her title. “Ananke!  _ Qochata _ !”  _ White man,  _ Hermione’s eyes glazed as the fear struck.  _

#####  ~~~~~~~

“What’s your name?” The blond trespasser called after her. He managed a seated position, legs dangling over the side of the cot. Hermione had dropped the food and canteen in his lap unceremoniously and turned to leave without a word. She stopped with her hand on the barn door. 

“What’s yours?” She turned, crossing her arms and tilting her head defiantly. 

“Fair enough.” He began to eat the apple, maintaining the tense eye contact. 

“How is your shoulder?” She softened and averted her gaze as he took a particularly slow bite.

“You shot it.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “But considering the barely provoked violence, it is well enough healed and mostly just stiff,” He conceded. 

“Well enough? Not a “shit job” anymore?” She wrinkled her nose at him in disdain.

“I wouldn’t go that far. It could still be infected and I’m caked in blood and dirt. A shower would help.” He took another slow bite of the apple, somehow playfully.

“Showers are for guests, not intruders. And it’s not going to be infected. I  _ scourgified _ the wound.” Hermione scoffed, uncomfortable with the way he was eyeing her.

“But not me or my clothes?” He feigned a pout.

“Intruders get the bare minimum. This isn’t an Inn.” She gritted her teeth, somehow feeling like she was losing the upper hand.

“It’s not? Thank you, I was quite confused by my  _ lavish _ surroundings.” He sent her a playful smirk.

“I should have left you to bleed to death in the damn pasture. I would have if not for the coyotes and vultures your carcass would have drawn.” This situation had definitely gotten away from her. He gave her an incredulous look and took another bite of the apple.

“And now,” He began after a lingering pause, “You’ve healed me, fed me, and protected me from the sheriff.” 

_ “Aguamenti. _ ” She flicked her wand above his head, and he was caught with a deluge of water. “Now I’ve showered you as well. Maybe this is an Inn.” She smiled sweetly, satisfied with his sudden lack of composure, and fled the barn at an almost casual pace.

He sat on the cot, staring after her, trying to catch his breath from the sudden cold. It was refreshing in the heat but definitely did nothing for his unkempt state. He watched the water run red as it rinsed the blood from his skin and clothes. He unbuttoned and shrugged off his shirt, apple core discarded on the floor. He rose shakily to hang his shirt next to the well-organized riding gear.  _ That was quite a close one _ , he realized as he ran his hand over his newly scarred shoulder. He jumped in surprise as the barn door swung open again.

“Oh…” Hermione flushed at catching him shirtless. “I…  _ Scourgefy _ .” She waved her wand, cleaning him and his clothes of blood and dirt. 

“You changed your mind.” He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the nearest horse stall. She blushed even harder, admiring the definition of his arms and torsos.

“I don’t do well with visitors,” She mumbled, catching herself and snapping her eyes back to his face. His smirk was charming and his gray eyes danced in amusement. He brushed his damp hair out of his eyes, much more comfortable than she was with the tense silence that followed. 

“I’m Draco,” He moved toward her but stopped quickly as she scrambled backward and raised her wand. He moved his hands slowly up in surrender. “Merlin, witch, I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I’m sure I’ll learn the truth of that the hard way,” She scoffed, wand still pointed his way.

“Draco Malfoy,” He continued, “Recent deserter of a disreputable gang, mollified and grateful guest at your lovely Inn.” Hermione stiffened.  _ An outlaw? Worst luck ever. _

“Put your shirt back on, Draco.” She sighed and lowered her wand. “This is a disaster.” She opened the barn door again and beckoned him to follow. He slipped on his damp shirt, skipping the buttons, and grabbed the cheese from his cot. He slung the canteen over his shoulder and unwrapped the cheese, following her cheerfully toward the house.

#####  ~~~~~~~

Draco’s life before the New Night gang seemed like a fantasy. He had bright, sunny memories of a manor house with an extensive garden. His best memories were in that garden, watching his mother, Narcissa, hum to herself as she lovingly cultivated aromatic and colorful blooms. His worst was of the night everything changed. 

_ He was hiding in his father’s study, shoved hastily under the desk by his mother after the ominous knocking on the door. She murmured her love for him before she returned to the foyer. He heard Lucius, his father, arguing with two unfamiliar men. The voices rose and a scuffle ensued. Why was his father not using magic? His stomach dropped at the sound of a gunshot and a cry of anguish from his father.  _

_ “ _ Avada Kadavra _ .” His father choked and roared. He felt a prickle of magic finally in the air. It was eerily silent for too long, but Draco knew not to move from his hiding spot. There was nothing about his life that would ever be the same, he was sure of it. The door of the study opened and a haggard man barely resembling his father closed it tight behind him. In silence, he reached for his child under the desk and pulled him into his arms. He apparated them without a word. Draco was eight.  _

_ The next couple of years were traveling from town to town, obviously running. Lucius would never admit it, and his air of purpose and determination never betrayed it. Draco was raised by bar wenches and innkeepers while Lucius skulked in the shadows with unsavory characters and poured over secret correspondences that often infuriated the man. _

_ “Draco,” Lucius’s attention startled Draco from where he was quietly reading in the corner. “I found your aunt.” _

_ “My aunt?” He was confused.  _

_ “Her name is Andromeda. She was… She is from the other side of your family.” _

_ “She’s my mother’s sister,” Draco schooled his face as Lucius flinched at the mention.  _

_ “We’re about a day and a half from her town. She is eager to meet you.” Lucius was uncharacteristically flustered. “I… It seems best if you stay with her.” Draco’s eyes widened and a silence fell between them. _

_ “No.” He slammed his book shut, rising from his chair and turning to his father. “I’m not leaving you.” _

_ “Draco, what I’m doing isn’t safe.” _

_ “It’s obviously never been safe or she... “ Draco trailed off. They made a point to never speak of Narcissa Malfoy. Draco had never asked and Lucius had never offered. He steeled his courage, meeting his father’s eyes defiantly. “I don’t care. I belong here with you.” _

_ “Be reasonable, Draco. You’re behind on your schooling and in a year or two, she can even send you to Ilvermorny. I’m not living a sustainable life. You deserve better.” _

_ “ _ Wingardium LeviosA _ ,” Draco flourished his hand, lifting Lucius’s quill from the table. “Get me a wand and see what else I can do. I’ve been keeping up on studies and one of the serving girls taught me some wandless magic. I don’t need Ilvermorny. I need you.” Draco shuffled uncomfortably. _

_ “I…” Lucius struggled, impressed and heart wrenched, “I’ve stolen enough of your childhood. You’re barely ten.” Draco crossed his arms and glared defiantly. “Don’t make that face. Your mother used to look at me that way. Narcissa… Your mother would kill me.” _

_ “She doesn’t get to decide how we get through this,” Draco said softly. Lucius looked at him sharply, seeing his son for what seemed like the first time in years.  _

_ “Draco…” Lucius choked up and then coughed, resetting his demeanor. “We’ll get you a wand. And no more learning from serving girls. You’ll learn from the best.” _

_ “You?” Draco asked. _

_ “Of course, and some of my friends.” _

_ It seemed strange to recall that the New Night gang began as an impromptu band of talented and inarguably dark wizards gathering to help Lucius Malfoy educate his son. By the time Draco was a man, Lucius had begun picking up the defectors and outcasts of American Wizarding society, forming one of the most feared bands of thugs west of the Mississippi. They descended mostly on No-Maj towns, Lucius always spending an inordinate amount of time interrogating the sheriffs and deputies, never seeming to get what he needed. Draco and Lucius weren’t the ones running anymore.  _

#####  ~~~~~~~

“The New Night gang? Disaster may have been an understatement,” Hermione groaned. Draco shot her a guilty look across the table as she rose to pace. He watched with concern as her thoughts flickered over her face. After a few silent minutes, she let out another groan and moved to the cabinet, rummaging until she found her prize. She took a long swig from the dusty firewhiskey bottle, shuddering as it hit her stomach. She slid the bottle across the table to him. “I have to put up the horses. Don’t drink it all while I’m gone.” 

“Want some help?” He took a swig, recorking it and rising to follow her.

“It  _ is _ the least you can do, things considered.” She shot him a dirty look. 

“Things considered? Don’t forget you shot me. We’ve got to be a little close to even,” he grumbled. She snorted, not deigning to respond as she paused at the door.

“Careful, they are wild as hell.”  _ Like their owner,  _ Draco marveled. He followed her out to the corral. The sun was nearly set, painting the sky in colored ribbons of red and orange.

“Draco, meet Ahote, Nova, Sihu, and Tohopka,” She turned back to him, grinning as she slid the entrance open. Draco surveyed the four mustangs. She moved to a black stallion with white markings on his back, head, and front legs. She rubbed his neck affectionately and he nuzzled into her hair. 

“Ahote was given to me by a tribe of Hopi. His name means restless one. Nova is the lead mare.” Hermione pointed to a nearby brown horse with a black mane who snorted and turned away, blatantly ignoring Draco. Hermione chuckled. “You’ll have better luck with Sihu.” Draco turned to the remaining two horses as Hermione moved to negotiate with Nova. “On the right, the grayish one.” Sihu wasn’t entirely gray. Her legs started as a dark charcoal color that faded into a lighter, stormy version of the color. Her mane and tail were black. Draco slid a hand tentatively along her neck and grasped her reins. The horse sent him a skeptical look but seemed to shrug in acquiescence.

“What does her name mean?” He patted the shoulder of the great beast and began to lead her out of the corral.

“Flower,” Hermione smiled at the sight.  _ If the horses don’t mind him, maybe he’s alright.  _ Nova nipped at her hair, tugging it free of the messy bun in the back. “Stop your mischief,” She chided the horse. “It’s time to go in.” She grabbed the reins and swung herself onto Nova’s back. “You know the drill.” The horse huffed and walked past Draco and Sihu toward the barn. 

“Flower,” Draco murmured, thinking of his mother and her gardens. He paused, stroking Sihu’s nose as he leaned his face against the horse’s head, surprising himself at the affection. 

“Can you get the door?” Hermione coughed, bringing him back to himself. Nova danced under Hermione restlessly as Draco led Sihu to the barn. He swung open the door and Sihu entered, finding her stall on her own.

#####  ~~~~~~~

_ “Qochata!” Hermione felt the blood drain from her face.  _ They were here. They found her.  _ She felt her fear change and suddenly drain away as anger replaced it.  _

_ “Powaqa, your hair is dancing with sparks. Calm down!” Ananke’s words were miles away.  _

_ The paphos in her hand awakened at the touch of her wild magic. Her world was a blur as she stormed from the kiva to the sounds of struggle. She could hear screaming and crying amid gunshots. She spotted the first attacker firing down into the gathering area. _

_ “ _ Confrigo!”  _ She growled and launched him from his perch. Bones snapped as he hit the rocky mesa wall. _

_ “ _ Reducto _ .” The next man she encountered was nothing but a fine red mist. She spotted three more at the mouth of the gathering place firing into the panicking crowd of Hopi.  _

_ “ _ Incendio. _ ” A great stream of flames enveloped the trio, crackling louder than their screams. Hermione swept into the center of the gathering place, eyes on the last intruder. He was on a horse, running down a mother fleeing with her toddler.  _

_ “ _ Diffindo. _ ” He yelped, grabbing his side and falling from the horse. She walked over to him, muttering the cutting curse over and over, red slashes appearing all over the screaming and writhing man. _

_ “Powaqa!” The escaping mother was shielding her child’s eyes, tone filled with fear and hate. “Powaqa!” Harsh murmurs began among the surviving Hopi. _

_ “Yes, Powaqa,” Ananke’s voice sounded from the entrance to the kiva above. “The Powaqa has defeated the Qochata. Though we strive to be a peaceful people, we were gifted the protection of this Powaqa in our impotence. Tend the wounded, mourn the dead, and do not question the kachinas.You remember when they sent her to us.” _

_ Hermione stayed silent, eyes cast down upon the still man she had mutilated to death.  _ They were No-Majs, just horrible evil No-Majs. _ After a few minutes, she reached down and grabbed the gun belt from the dead man. She picked up his guns and turned to face Ananke, knowing she was still watching. _

_ “You’ll need a horse, Powaqa, and supplies. It is time to find your Waki.” _

#####  ~~~~~~~

“ _ Tahopka, _ ” Hermione rubbed bruise salve on Draco’s eye, despite his sullen wriggling, “means wild beast. I don’t know what you were thinking.” She waved her wand and the black eye began to fade.

“You said to help you with the horses,” Draco spluttered.

“Right, not to let one knock you unconscious,” She tried to hide a smirk.

“This place is a death trap.” He muttered.

“No one asked you to come here. I recall I even shot you to prevent it.”

“You should have left me in that pasture to die,” He moaned dramatically.

“I  _ know _ , right? But-”

“Vultures and coyotes.” He finished and she couldn’t stifle a giggle. He grabbed her hand, silencing her. “Hermione…” He caught her eyes and her face flushed. “Thank you.” 

“For not killing you? For healing you? For protecting you from the Legilimens? For feeding you? For healing you again? You’re wracking up quite a debt.” She quirked an eyebrow at him, allowing him a crooked smile.

“Just for healing this bruise,” Draco sniffed haughtily. “I should have known better than to let that demon horse catch me off guard.” He looked down at her hand and began running circles in her palm. “I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know what to do.” Hermione’s stomach twisted at the husky vulnerability in his voice. 

“Well, you can’t stay in the barn with the horses. You’ll disrupt their sleep schedule.” He looked up at her in surprise. “I should probably keep an eye on you anyway. You probably have a concussion. Do you play cards?”

#####  ~~~~~~~

_ Everything shifted for the New Night gang when they met the Carrow twins. It had been a routine pillaging for supplies at a small No-Maj mining town. They were headed back to the house of Theodore Nott Sr, a close friend of Lucius and their current harborer, when a burning house in the distance caught their eyes. _

_ “Keep moving,” Lucius commanded when he noticed Draco stall his horse and turn toward the blaze. _

_ “It costs us nothing to see if we can help.” Draco walked his horse slowly toward the house. _

_ “It could cost us everything, son.” Lucius muttered, sighing.  _ He definitely got this altruism from his mother. _ “Take Crabbe and Goyle. Make it quick.” Draco grinned at his two friends and they galloped off together toward the danger.  _

_ Draco pulled his horse to a halt and dismounted, drawing his gun as he saw two young figures watching the flames from an unsafe distance. He signaled Crabbe and Goyle to hold their position. The youths turned as he approached, and Draco couldn’t contain a gasp. It was a girl and a boy, maybe sixteen, covered in blood and ash.  _

_ “What happened?” He raised the gun and the pair exchanged a look. _

_ “It was the savages,” The girl stepped forward and spoke with barely feigned emotion. “They killed our family.” Goyle dismounted and moved toward her, shooting a concerned look at Draco’s still raised gun.  _

_ “You poor thing,” He crooned and she threw herself into his arms, sobbing dramatically. Draco moved backward toward Crabbe, halting his dismount. _

_ “I didn’t see any tracks, check the perimeter.” Crabbe nodded at Draco’s whisper, trotting his horse toward the back of the house. Crabbe returned a few minutes later, looking pale and shaking his head. Draco and the silent boy were still in a bleak staring contest, Draco’s gun between them. Goyle was still comforting the utterly disturbing woman. _

_ “Who are you?” Draco asked. _

_ “I’m Alecto Carrow,” The woman pulled away from Goyle to answer, “and that is my twin, Amycus.” _

_ Goyle wouldn’t let them leave the twins and Crabbe was eerily quiet.  _

_ “Alright, let’s go talk to Lucius,” Draco mumbled, regretting his need to investigate.  _

_ “Are they No-Majs?” was Lucius’s first question, as always. Crabbe and Draco stood away from the raiding party, a  _ muffilato _ protecting their discussion. _

_ “No,” said Crabbe definitively. “They… They used magic on the house. It looked like  _ Fiendfyre _ . The signs were there and… I think they killed their family.” Crabbe shuddered. “There was a child around back, dead. It looked like he made it out of the fire.” Draco paled. _

_ “Are we sure it wasn’t an attack?” Lucius asked. _

_ “Oh, it was them.” Draco sneered. “I can feel it. It was an evil sight.” _

_ “Twins,” Lucius considered, “Younger than you, and they can cast  _ Fiendfyre. _ ” _

_ “They’re crazy and evil. They killed a child!” Draco tried to protest.  _

_ “Let me speak to them,” Lucius decided. _

_ The Carrows seemed to fit in well with the New Night gang, and Goyle continued to pine for Alecto, of course. Crabbe and Draco made no secret of their origins, yet everyone was more focused on their abilities than their wickedness. The twins hung on every word Lucius said, and eventually, even Crabbe was joking with Amycus and pandering to Alecto’s whims.  _

#####  ~~~~~~~

“Three pairs! Drink!” Hermione’s laugh was heady and jubilant. Her eyes shone with light.

“You only have five cards,” Draco smiled at her, taking a swig of firewhiskey. “Your two pairs are still higher than mine.”

“Boom! Dynamite!” She mucked the cards into the center, reaching for the firewhiskey.

“You won, you don’t have to drink.”

“I won, I get to drink!” She let out another peal of laughter.

“I don’t think you understand how this works.” Draco chuckled.

“You lost, you  _ have _ to drink. I won, I  _ get _ to drink.”

“That’s the same outcome.”

“But the conditions are different. You’re drowning your sorrows. I’m toasting!”

“You’re toasted.”

“Boo. Sore loser.” She wrinkled her nose derisively at him, somehow maintaining her giddy smile. With her hair loose and the whiskey flushing her cheeks, Draco knew she was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. She was so blatantly good, and more real than any woman he had encountered since he began the trek out west with his father. 

“I’m raising the stakes,” He took another swig from the bottle for luck. “If I win the next hand, I get to kiss you.” A silence settled and Hermione seemed to sober a bit.

“And if you lose, you  _ have  _ to kiss me.” Her eyes sparkled as she raised her chin defiantly. His mouth opened slightly in disbelief, searching her eyes for truth. “Deal the cards!” She smacked the table lightly, bringing him back to earth. She gasped as he stood, reaching across the table to slide a hand in her hair and pull her lips to his. It was a soft and insistent kiss, a promise. He released her and sat back in his chair, collecting the cards and beginning to shuffle as if nothing happened.

“What?” It was his turn to smile playfully her way. “A kiss for luck.” He responded to her silent, questioning gaze. She brought a finger to her lips.

“I shot you not even twenty-four hours ago.” She muttered in confused disbelief.

“An obvious misunderstanding.” He dealt them each their five cards. “Besides, you easily could have killed me as you keep saying. I think you also healed me, protected me from my father’s snatcher, fed me, and healed me again. Oh, plus there was that delightful shower you afforded me plus a quarter of a bottle-”

“Half a bottle,” She interrupted.

“You’ve had half a bottle. I’ve had a quarter. You drank quite a bit in those early rounds. Not as fast a learner as I expected. Plus, now you take celebratory drinks as well.” She took another drink pointedly.

“And drinks for luck, too.” She glanced at her cards. “I want two.” She pushed her discards into the middle and he dealt her two replacements. “Are you going to look at yours?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“No, I’m good,” He replied huskily, never taking his eyes away from her.

“You didn’t even look at them! Draco…” She fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze. She set her cards face-down on the table and rose, moving over to the counter. She felt his warmth behind her moments after hearing his chair push out. A hand tentatively swept her hair away from her neck and she felt goosebumps rise in response to the gentle touch. 

“What?” He whispered close to her ear, dropping short kisses along her neck. She whirled around and caught his face in her hands, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. He leaned into her, a hand at her lower back, pressing them seamlessly together. His other snaked into her hair, keeping her lips pressed firmly to his. 

A gasp left Draco’s mouth as Hermione hungrily bit his lip, and he slipped his tongue between her lips in answer to her savagery. His hands fell to her hips, lifting her to the counter and pressing his core insistently against hers. She moaned at the feel of him, hard against the heat of her, and his voracious kisses trailed to her neck. Her soft whimpers and groans moved him to explore further with his hands, one sliding along her thigh, raising her skirts. The other fumbled to untuck her shirt, and he let out a moan of triumph as he reached the soft, firm skin of her hips.

She froze abruptly at the touch. He leaned back, confused by the fear in her eyes. She blinked, replacing the fear with determination and helped him slide the shirt over her head. Angry, whirling scars decorated her torso from her left hip to left shoulder. He slid his hand along their trajectory and slowly traced a tendril that looped gracefully under her breast. With a moan, she grasped the nape of his neck, pulling his lips back to her own. Her other hand encouraged the ascent of his hand on her thigh. His breath caught as she slid his hand to her knickers, and helped him slide them off. She rested her hands on the counter with a moan as he ran a teasing finger along the engorged slit of her quim. 

“Oh, Merlin,” She moaned as he slid a finger inside her.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispered as he slid to his knees in front of her. Her desperate, insistent hand tangled in his hair as he spread her lips with his other hand, revealing her clit to the air. He began his worship in earnest, sliding the flat of his tongue over her again and again, delighted at the keening whimpers and escalating moans he was eliciting from her. When she seemed near her peak, he crooked his finger along her insides to match his other ministrations, and she broke apart with a desperate cry. He kept up with his movements until her shuddering and gasping ceased, leaning back on his heels to look up at her with a satisfied grin.

She moved off the counter to join him on her knees, kissing him fervently. He lost his balance in surprise, and tumbled backward, pulling her on top of him. They both chuckled around deep kisses, and her hand snaked to massage him through his pants. His breath caught as she untied his trousers, hastily shoving the fabric away to free his member. She broke from their kisses and raised her skirts, rubbing her dripping slit along his straining cock. 

“Hermione…” He gasped in supplication, followed by a groan as she angled him up into her and began settling slowly on top of him.

“How do I feel?” She asked softly, catching his eyes as she reached the hilt of him. He groaned again in answer, watching her bite her own lip playfully. He rose up to replace her teeth with his own and rolled her onto her back beneath him. He stayed there for a moment, reveling in her legs wrapped around him, her hands in his hair, her lips crushing his own, and the exquisite rightness of being sheathed inside her.

“Questions later,” He mumbled into her lips as he slowly slid out of her. She gasped as he thrust back in and began setting an ardent pace. 

#####  ~~~~~~~

_ “Witch.” Hermione jumped at the deep, gravelly voice. She turned and saw a sneering, black-cloaked man emerge from the shadows of the warehouse.  _

_ “You must be mistaken, sir,” Her voice trembled.  _

_ “It was a trap, witch,” The man chuckled and she felt hands grasp her arms roughly from behind. _

_ “The only good use for my cursed magic is smoking out scum like you, darling,” She recognized the younger man’s voice with a whimper. _

_ “Cormac…”  _ A Scourer? _ She was warned about wizards such as these at Ilvermorny. Wizards that were born to a heritage that reviled magic and sought its destruction. It was a society whose horrific influence on the No-Maj witch trials led to the formation of MACUSA. _

_ Cormac McClaggan had seemed like a normal Irish immigrant, other than the repetitive chance encounters in No-Maj Boston. Hermione had gone out of her way to avoid his advances at first. The MACUSA demanded segregation between No-Majs and wizards. It seemed like fate when he walked into the wizarding bookstore where she worked. _

_ “You!” She had accused. “A wizard?” _

_ “No, I just wandered into wizarding Boston unimpeded by wards and  _ confoundus _ curses,” He teased, tucking one of her errant curls behind her ear. “After the last time I bumped into you, I knew there was something different.” _

_ “And now, you’re here,” Hermione’s voice was soft. She was young. She was naive. She wanted their serendipitous romance to be real. _

_ “You were captivating when I thought you were a No-Maj. Now...” He trailed off, pulling her into his embrace. Cormac shivered when he kissed her. She had no reason to believe it wasn’t from desire. _

_ “You monsters!” Now, Hermione struggled against Cormac’s steely grasp as the cloaked man slapped her hard, hands roaming invasively as he searched for her wand. He pulled it from where it was tucked in her skirts, a malicious smirk on his face. _

_ “It’ll be over soon, darling,” Cormac’s normally sugary tone was cruel and derisive. _

_ “I… I loved-” She sobbed, her broken heart aching. _

_ “You loved me?” Cormac let out a booming laugh. Hermione’s sorrow turned to rage at his mockery. She let out a scream of defiance, anguish and rage running deep through her magical core. It crescendoed into fire bursting from her hands. Cormac yelped and released her. She fell to her knees, her magic taking the form of a flaming dragon. _

_ “ _ Fiendfyre _ …” The cloaked man cursed, dropping her wand and disapparating with a crack. The dragon rampaged the warehouse as Hermione crawled to where her wand had fallen, flames licking against her. She grasped it, Cormac’s screams and the roar of the fire falling silent as she disapparated farther away than she thought possible. _

#####  ~~~~~~~

“So you’re behind the Great Boston Fire of 1972?” Draco chuckled, his arm pressing Hermione closer to his chest. They were lying entwined on the kitchen floor. “Father said the MACUSA were beside themselves trying to figure out how to play that one off.” Hermione responded with a whimper. “Oh no... love…” Draco sat up at the sound of her despair, pulling her into his lap. “You were brilliant and fierce. I didn’t mean to laugh.” She still sobbed, burrowing into his chest. 

“This is too much.” She pulled back from him suddenly, scrambling to her feet and grabbing her discarded shirt.

“No, it’s not,” Draco insisted, hastily tying his pants back up as he rose to face her. He paused as she moved back from him, suddenly skittish again. “Hermione,” he pleaded, his face falling. She stared at him warily. He sighed after a moment. 

“Our game,” he remembered. “We never finished our hand.” He nonchalantly moved back to his seat at the table, taking a swig of the firewhiskey. “For luck?” He held the bottle out to her. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when she gingerly took the bottle from him. Her pull on the bottle was anything but ginger.

“New stakes,” She slid shakily into her seat. “If I win, it’s too much, if you win, it’s not.”

“Never,” He spat, suddenly angry. “This is too much to leave to chance. This…” He gestured between them. “This isn’t out there. Men like me… I don’t get to have this again.”

“Sex? Really?” Hermione scoffed.

“No… Gods be damned, witch,” Draco slammed a hand on the table and Hermione met his eyes in defiance. “My life has… My world has been characterized by just trying to survive. Everything since I lost my…” He choked on his words. “Everything since I was a child has been about life or death, take or be taken.” He paused, considering. “Darkness is a fact of my life, but even doing what I do and having done what I’ve done, I know what something good looks like. I want something good more than anything.” 

#####  ~~~~~~~

_ Draco’s stomach threatened to evict his dinner as he surveyed their latest mining town conquest. Alecto Carrow’s laughter was revolting as she shoved a weeping girl up against the wall of the saloon, sliding a knife along the swell of her chest. The New Night gang had taken a twisted turn with the addition of the Carrows. It had been a slow escalation from hold-ups and smash and grabs to pillaging and destruction. The Carrows seemed to whisper to the darkness in the thugs around them, coaxing it to grow. _

_ “Lucius!” Draco had demanded the first time Alecto had slit a man’s throat unnecessarily. _

_ “It was just a No-Maj,” Lucius laughed. “We’re an outlaw gang. The world is lucky we don’t unleash the full extent of our power. Let the Carrows have their fun.” _

_ “Draco…” Now, Alecto sang his name, sensing his presence and his revulsion. “Do you want a turn with this whore?” _

_ “Leave her be, Alecto. We already have all the money and valuables, and all the liquor we can carry on top of that. We’ve killed most of them and the rest are scared and wounded.” Draco sighed. “What a waste. Is this not enough terror for you?”  _

_ “No,” Alecto caught his eyes, plunging her knife in the heart of the girl and turning to fully face Draco. He struggled not to flinch as the girl died, knowing that would goad Alecto further. She reached down to pull the knife from where the girl had crumpled, running her other hand in the stream of blood. She stalked slowly to face Draco and he couldn’t help but shudder as she dragged her bloody hand across his cheek. He grabbed her hand roughly from his face and shoved her away. _

_ “Is this a game to you? I won’t indulge in your sick, violent revelry so you literally rub it on my face?” His anger was reaching an unseen peak. Alecto laughed, moving back toward him, sliding her bloody hands up his chest.  _

_ “Play with me, Draco,” She crooned softly into his ear. Bile rose in his throat as his stomach churned. “Always holding back, such a saint. Let the darkness in.” She stroked him softly, teasingly through his pants and he turned away quickly, hiding his body’s natural reaction to her practiced touch.  _

_ “You.. are a fucking monster…” He cringed as her abominable laugh echoed in the house. His eyes landed on the fear frozen in the eyes of the dead girl. She was the latest death tonight, but she was far from the only. Something snapped inside him as he thought of the horrors he had yet to witness. “Only one more,” He promised himself softly.  _

_ “Hmm..?” He felt Alecto drag a finger up his spine, and he quickly turned to face her. She barely got out a gasp before his hand was at her throat. She clawed his hand as he lifted her, harsh gray eyes watching her struggle. Right before she gave up the ghost, he dropped her. He whispered a curse she had used time and again to destroy entire towns. He didn’t look back as the saloon burned brightly with  _ Fiendfyre.

#####  ~~~~~~~

“I want something good, too.” Hermione broke from his gaze, trying to control the tears welling in her eyes.  _ More than anything,  _ she blinked, a single tear escaping.“But-”

“Hermione,” Draco interrupted what was sure to be safe and logical reasoning against moving forward. He moved from his chair to grasp her hands, kneeling in supplication as she continued to avoid his eyes. Eventually, she let out a defeated sigh, turning to read his face. It was her hopes and her fears mirrored back at her. 

“This isn’t fair. I can’t argue with you right now,” she mumbled, allowing a small smile. “I’m still quite drunk and I’m obviously losing.” He rose triumphantly, grasping her face in his hands.

“We can try again in the morning if you like, but I’m liable to slip whiskey in your tea.” He kissed her soundly, pulling her into his embrace. “I’ll keep you drunk the rest of your life if it wins me this argument.”

“That will only work on this argument,” She cautioned cheekily. 

“This feels like the only argument I ever need to win,” He chuckled. He kissed her again, long and slow.

“Well, good.” She smiled, pressing her forehead to him. “I don’t lose easy, and I generally shoot first and ask questions later.” 

“I’m quite aware,” He murmured against her mouth. He pulled back as she froze.

“My wards,” she whispered, suddenly sobered by the intrusion.

“Scabior…” Draco growled. “Stay here.” He moved toward the door.

“Not very likely,” Hermione scoffed, grabbing her rifle and flicking her wand toward the icebox. Draco’s wand and gun belt flew over to the waiting wizard. “You might need these,” She glowered pointedly.

“Bloody distracting witch,” he muttered under his breath. 

“It feels like it’s just the Legilimens. He’s trying to sneak by,” she tensed, her eyes suddenly wild. “He’s in.” Draco disillusioned himself with a flick of his wand and slipped out the door. Hermione moved quickly after him, not bothering with a disillusionment. She headed straight for the barn. 

The horses were ominously restless as Hermione slipped quietly through the door.  _ Was he here already? _ She shivered at the thought.

“You are a formidable witch.” The stranger’s familiar whisper startled her, and she raised her rifle, bracing herself against the door. 

“You have no idea.” Hermione’s tone became deadly as a calm settled over her. She whispered unintelligibly and her magic trickled along her skin, reaching into her rifle.

“Your land is soaked in our prince’s blood,” He hissed from everywhere and nowhere.

“ _ Verum Volant! _ ” Her rifle swung automatically to the left as she fired, and a body thudded to the ground.

#####  ~~~~~~~

“Hermione!” Draco swung open the barn door without a thought of stealth or self-preservation. The horses were snorting and rustling in their stalls, but Draco’s eyes only saw his witch. 

“Draco…” She met his gaze. She stood over a large pool of blood, wand out. They stood in silence for a moment until one of the riled horses let out a disgruntled whinny. Hermione moved to comfort Nova, making soft noises. Draco moved his wand over the pool of blood and it disappeared with a  _ scourgefy. _

“Did you..?” Draco interrupted her and she shyly raised her eyes to his, nodding.

“You must think me a monster,” She muttered as she moved back toward him.

“I’ve seen monsters, Hermione.” He met her halfway, pulling her roughly into his arms. “You are an angel, a dangerous and avenging one,” he murmured into her neck. He stroked her hair and tilted her head to meet his eyes. “ _ He  _ was a monster. You are something good.” 

“I thought loneliness was the price of peace for so long,” she murmured. “But this, whatever this is, this connection I feel... this hope you bring…” She smiled into his eyes, suddenly certain in her words. “Perhaps peace is the price of you and perhaps I am willing to pay it.”

“I…” Draco’s voice grew husky. “I can’t promise more won’t come for me. There is so much you don’t know-” She cut him off with a fiery kiss.

“Don’t promise me that, then,” He gasped as she apparated them back to her kitchen. They came together in another searing kiss. “Just stay with me.” She grabbed his hand and drew him toward her bedroom with a smirk. “We can ask our questions later.”


End file.
